Reflections
by sleepless-dreams
Summary: R/T: Secrets. Stolen moments. A relationship hidden behind the appearances of an innocent friendship. And Rory finds herself wondering if it's worth it.
1. Prologue

Author's note: I've been writing for a while, but this is the first story I've ever put online. Please review! Any and all responses will be greatly appreciated!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino. I'm just temporarily borrowing her creativity.   
  
Prologue: Reflections  
  
Rory stood in front of her mirror, dressed in her pajamas. She looked intently at her reflection, looking for a visible sign of how different she felt from who she had been just months ago. She thought back to those days, when life had been simple and carefree and innocent. She tried to think back to the kind of person she had been then, tried to capture the way she used to think and feel, and drew a blank. She remembered being focused on her goals, being focused on doing the right thing and making everyone happy. She remembered being blind to everything outside the confines of her comfortable, innocent world. She remembered always walking down the path she had chosen so long ago, never veering from her straight path, never questioning herself or her goals.   
  
He had changed all that.   
  
She remembered the way she had lived before he had entered her life--freely, innocently... honestly. She knew she could never go back to that peaceful naivete, but she didn't regret any of it. She couldn't, not when she felt more alive than she ever had been, not when she still felt the heat of his eyes on hers and the fire that ran through her body when she was with him.   
  
There was only one thing she wished she could change, one thing that made her wish things would have been different.   
  
She hated lying. It would tear her up inside when she was with the people who thought they knew her, would cause that constant burning guilt she had learned to associate with all of them. She hated the pain she knew she would eventually cause Dean, cause her Mom, cause Lane... cause herself and Tristan, too, inevitably, because they were both involved in something that was above them, something that would eventually consume them both and break them both, splitting apart everything they had worked for. Someone would catch them someday, and the truth would be out. She cringed at the thought. It was wrong... but it was something she couldn't control. She needed him too much, loved him too much to let him go and go back to the simple, uncomplicated life she'd led before everything had changed. And she knew, somehow, that she could never go back to the simple Rory she had been before. She felt different now, felt as if she had discovered something new and deep within her that had never been unleashed until the first time he had touched her, really touched her in a way that had gone straight to her heart and changed something deep inside her that could never return to the way it had been before. 


	2. Chapter 1: The Beginning

Author's Note: I'm jumping around in time a bit, but I'm hoping that it makes sense in the context of the story.   
  
I just wanted to thank klm111a and Carrie and Surya, who were my first reviewers ever and completely made my day. Thank you!   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.  
  
Chapter 1: The Beginning  
  
She had decided to go the library during lunch that day. She wasn't hungry, and was intent on finishing the book she had brought to school with her. She'd retreated to a corner of the enormous library she had only recently discovered. It was in the back, behind the bookshelves, and she had found a dimly lit area that protruded a few feet into the wall, leaving a convenient place for sitting on the carpeted floor, leaning her back against the wall. It was a comfortable spot and her sanctuary on days when she wanted to get away from everyone.   
  
She had sat down as she did on most days, and focused intently on her book. After several minutes, she had been startled by a familiar voice.   
"Well, this is a surprise," he drawled mockingly. "So you've decided to take my spot, have you, Mary?"  
  
She sighed and closed her book as she realized that there would be no more peace for her that day.   
  
"It's not your spot, Tristan. It was empty when I came here, and I sat down first."  
  
"I know the truth, Mary. You followed me here before to find out where you could find me alone, didn't you?" She saw the familiar smirk on his face as he waited for her answer.   
  
She rolled her eyes in response. "Yes, Tristan. I followed you here because I have nothing better to do with my time than try to get you alone. I mean, other people might try talking in the halls if they want your attention. But me? Oh, no. I look for complications. I can't do things the easy way."  
  
He grinned at her, his smile friendly but still mocking. "So, you're in my spot. Move."  
  
"What?" She glared at him, stunned at his audacity to kick her out of a spot she had found first.   
  
"This is my spot. I found it first. Get out." He grinned again to let her know she was just teasing, but crouched down, waiting for her to move.   
  
"In your dreams," Rory answered, exasperated. "I came here first and I'm not leaving. You move." They'd grown to enjoy their banter, but he still exasperated her to no end. He knew exactly how to get to her, and he didn't hesitate to use any means to drive her crazy.   
  
"Look, Mary," he smirked at her again. "I found the spot first, two years ago. You couldn't have found it two years ago because you weren't in Chilton then. So it's my spot. Move." He emphasized the last word and looked carefully for her reaction.   
  
She was not inclined to argue with him today, and dismissed him with a huff and a wave of her hand. "Whatever. I'm going back to my book. You do whatever you want."  
  
She turned away from him and opened her book to where she had left off, oblivious to the mischievous grin on the face of the blond boy behind her.   
  
"Anything I want, is it?" He grinned and placed his hand on her shoulder, expecting her to pull away and glare at him again. He felt like bothering her today, and didn't want her to back to her book and ignore him again.   
  
She glanced at his hand on her shoulder. "Get your hands off me, Tristan."  
  
"But you said," he paused and leaned down to her ear. "that I can do whatever I want."  
  
She stilled at the feeling of his breath in her ear. "I didn't mean it..." she swallowed as she shivers run down her spine as he exhaled, his warm breath on the back of her neck, then rushed to finish her sentence. "... like that. You know what I meant, Tristan."  
  
He tightened his grip on her shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about. You said I could do whatever I want."  
  
She wanted him to move back, to let her breathe and clear her mind. His closeness was invading her senses, blocking her ability to think clearly. She could smell his cologne, and hated the fact that she liked having him so close to her, his body almost touching her. She resisted the urge to move closer to him but couldn't force herself to move away, either, as she waited for him to make his next step.   
  
He looked yearningly at the back of her neck. Any minute now he would have to pull away, going back to the normal distance between them. He reminded himself that it was just a game, but suddenly he felt as if it was no longer a game and suddenly something much more serious, much more intimate. He moved his hand from her shoulder to her hair. He hesitated for another second, then moved her hair to the side, allowing him full access to her neck.   
  
She drew in a sharp breath as she felt his fingers lightly touch her neck, moving her hair to the side. Her mind screamed at her to move away, to shake off his touch and go back to her book, but she couldn't force herself to do it. Her book remained open at her lap, and she stared at it unseeingly, waiting for him to do something, hoping, somewhere in the back of her thoughts, that he would not move away from her.   
  
He looked at her, waiting for her to make that inevitable move and break away from him, and was surprised to see that she had all but stopped moving completely. He saw it as a sign of acceptance, and lowered his head to her neck.   
  
She gasped in surprise as his lips touched her neck, almost imperceptibly. She felt a course of unexplained emotions as he continued his journey slowly up her neck, his kisses slow and feathery light until they reached her jaw. She shivered then, as his lips lingered on her jaw and then moved slowly towards her mouth as she felt, to her surprise, that she had moved towards him. She waited for logic to return to her, to come back and tell her that what she was doing was wrong, but all coherent thought remained hidden as she registered only the feeling of his lips on her skin, working their way to her mouth. Her eyes remained stubbornly on her book as he moved back up her jaw line, making his way back up to her ear, then fluttered closed as she felt his teeth close lightly on her earlobe. She could focus only on the sensations running through her body at his touch, could feel only the butterflies that seemed to have permanently resided in her stomach, could sense only the heat running through her veins.  
  
They both jumped when they heard the bell ring, signaling five minutes before the end of the period. She opened her eyes, still not comprehending exactly what had just happened between them, and heard his whispered words in her ear.   
  
"Meet me out in the courtyard after school."  
  
She remained sitting as he swiftly got up and left, swiping his bookbag off the floor as he passed it. After a minute, she shook her head as if to shake the memory of moments ago and the feelings it caused, and closed her book, stuffing it in her bookbag mindlessly. She stumbled to the nearby bathroom and ran in, coming to a stop before the sink. She stared at her reflection and took in her flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, realizing that she couldn't go to class looking the way she did. She splashed cold water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair, taking several deep breaths, then resolutely pushed all thoughts to the back of her head as the bell rang again. She would deal with this later, she decided. It took all of her willpower not to stop and run into one of the bathroom stalls, but she raised her chin decisively and walked to class. She hadn't known it then, but that day had been the beginning of her change.   
  
She didn't meet him after school. It hadn't been an option for her, really--she had to go home and think about it first, think of something casual to say to him the next day, make up ways to avoid what had happened. She had Dean, after all, and life was good--she wouldn't let what had happened in the library change anything.   
  
She refused to think of how he'd made her feel. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, and focused on what she needed to do--to push him away, to make him realize that it had all been a mistake. She refused to notice the pain she felt at the thought of never having him close to her like that again.   
  
She spent the rest of the afternoon focusing intently on her classes, taking notes feverishly and staring straight ahead to avoid looking at him. She knew, somehow, that he wouldn't follow her to the bus stop if she didn't meet him in the courtyard, knew that he would give her space until she was ready to talk to him. She didn't know why she thought so--he'd never bothered to leave her alone before--but somehow, she felt sure that he would be considerate this time, would leave her alone to think about what had happened in that little corner of the library.   
  
**********************************  
  
Author's Note: Please review! Reviews absolutely make my day. I live for them, really. Any responses, positive or negative, are, as always, greatly appreciated. 


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I just wanted to thank all of you for reviewing! You guys are amazing and your reviews always make me smile. Thank you!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.  
  
Reflections: Chapter 2  
  
Rory smiled wryly at her reflection as she thought about the next few days. She hadn't told anyone about what had happened--not even Lorelai. Her smiled waned as she thought of her mother, sitting in the living room, completely in the dark about a large part of her daughter's life. Rory had gone straight home that day, intent on telling Lorelai exactly what had happened and asking for advice, but Lorelai had been at the inn. And when she had come home, hours later, holding two cups of coffee and talking a mile a minute about something Luke had done, Rory couldn't bring herself to do it. She had hated herself at that moment, hated the way she had so easily forgotten about Dean and given in to the feelings that Tristan aroused in her. She'd been afraid of what her mother would think--of how her mother would immediately think of herself when she had been sixteen--and she couldn't tell her. So she had let her chatter on about Luke and the inn, smiling in appropriate places and pushing all thoughts to the back of her head. It was then that she had unconsciously begun building the invisible wall that would later separate them, make them distant from each other in some intangible way that Lorelai couldn't understand and Rory could only regret. That invisible wall was why, now, Lorelai was watching TV in the living room alone, and Rory had locked herself in her room. There hadn't been any arguments between the two of them--their lives had actually been very calm and they'd both agreed on almost everything--but there was an invisible boundary between the two of them now, something that neither mentioned but both felt, and it hurt them both deeply. Maybe it was because Rory had distanced herself from everyone to get away from the guilt; maybe it was partly because her mother, too, had so much going on in her life now that she wasn't as attentive as she could have been. Whatever the reasons, Rory knew it had started that afternoon, and she hated herself for not having the strength to say the words that would break it down.   
Rory knew that Dean had felt the distance, too, as had Lane, and Luke, and everyone that she'd always been so close to. She wondered if they talked about it when she wasn't around, or whether that distance was so indefinable that they didn't know how to start. Dean was probably the one that was the most unaware of her change. On the surface, Rory had remained the perfect girlfriend--perhaps better, now that she was hiding something and focused on always doing exactly what he would expect. She'd always been somehow distant from him, she realized now--there was something that hadn't allowed her to completely give in to him as she was able to with Tristan.   
  
She grimaced at the thought. She avoided comparing the two, if she could. They were two completely different people in her mind, and they occupied different positions in her heart. She'd realized finally that she did love Dean--now that she had Tristan, she could admit to herself that it was a calm, innocent love that she felt towards him, full of care and respect and concern but completely devoid of the passion that she shared with Tristan.   
  
She'd never told Tristan that. They'd never really talked about their feelings--they didn't really need words to describe what they shared. And yet Rory wished she could be sure of what he felt for her. Their relationship was something that neither of them could really understand--they understood each other in a way no one ever had. They connected in a way that had stunned them both, given the completely different lifestyles they led, and they often needed only a glance or a smile to know what the other was thinking. And yet, somehow, there was a line that they didn't cross. They never talked about what they felt for each other--it was a topic neither could broach, not honestly, when they both had other people in their lives. Rory had Dean--and Tristan had the many girls in his life. They'd never decided to date exclusively--if she was honest with herself, they'd never actually decided to date--and both were afraid to broach that topic.   
  
If it had been anyone else, Rory thought ruefully, she would have ended it a long time ago. But somewhere along the line, she'd fallen in love with him, and she couldn't pull herself away from him if she wanted to. He had come to mean too much to her--to mean enough for her to risk her comfortable life and her peace of mind in order to have those stolen moments with him. But she was never sure of what he felt. He was good at keeping his feelings hidden. He had never uttered a single word of love--and she, stopped by his seeming lack of emotions, had refrained from saying anything.   
  
She knew that if he would tell her he loved her--if he told her that he wanted her for himself, that he didn't want to share her with anyone else--she would leave Dean. If he'd asked her to stop lying--to see him in the open and stop sneaking around, stealing moments in the back of the library and in his room on nights when Lorelai was working--she would do it. But he never asked, and she didn't stop.  
  
**********************************  
  
Author's Note: Please, please review. I want to know if you hate it, or love it, or if you think there's anything I'm doing wrong, or right... I appreciate every single review I get! 


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I recently realized that my settings did not allow anonymous reviews, so I've changed that. I appreciate every single review I get, and I have nothing against anonymous reviewers... so, please, tell me what you think! To those that have reviewed, thank you! It means so much to me that you find my story worthy of the time you spend reviewing it... Again, thank you!   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.  
  
Reflections: Chapter 3  
  
It was about a week after their last encounter. She had studiously avoided his gaze, and he hadn't displayed any initiative to talk to her. She saw Paris eyeing the two of them curiously, probably wondering why they had abruptly stopped their banter, and was only grateful that she hadn't bothered to ask. The two of them were on speaking terms now--Paris had eventually put the disastrous set up behind her, and they were on their way to being friends. Although, Rory smiled wryly, friends wouldn't be a good word to describe them. They'd moved on to a somewhat friendly rivalry that, while it occasionally escalated into something less than amiable, eventually brought them together because of their similar goals. There was a mutual respect between the two now, and they managed, most of the time, to put aside their differences and work together on the paper. They would never, in Paris's words, "go shopping together and paint each other's toenails," but they could work together.   
  
There had been a week of silence--a week of hiding from everything that was threatening to surface--a week of exhausting acting as she desperately tried to be the same with everyone in Stars Hollow. And then, as if propelled by some invisible force, she had walked to the library. She felt instinctively that he would be there, and she decided that it was time to talk to him. She promised herself that she would tell him it had all been a mistake--that she hadn't meant it--that it was something they could never repeat again. She told herself firmly that she had a boyfriend, that she had responsibilities, that the whole thing was so crazy she didn't even know why she had to convince herself of all of that.   
  
She saw him sitting in the corner, reading a book. He looked relaxed, comfortable, and she had a sudden urge to curl up next to him. She shook it off, and walked towards him.   
  
He looked up when he heard quiet footsteps, and looked startled when he saw her standing in front of him.   
  
She hesitated at his startled look, then took one more step towards him. "Hi," she said timidly.   
  
"Hi," he said hesitantly. He didn't know what to expect from her, although he had a pretty good idea of what she was about to say. He decided to start it quickly so he could get it over with. He'd spent the past week in turmoil, waiting for her to come up to him and inform him that it'd been a mistake of some sort, waiting for her to forbid him to do it again. He'd avoided her as much as she'd avoided him, afraid of hearing those words that he knew were inevitable. "You didn't meet me last week."  
  
She crouched down, avoiding his eyes. "I know. I was in a hurry."   
  
All week? He was tempted to ask, but decided to let it go. He had, after all, avoided her, too.   
  
"So let me guess why you're here."  
  
She hadn't expected that, but allowed him to continue. "Okay."  
  
"You're here…" he paused for a moment, looking at her. "to tell me that it was a mistake."  
  
She was startled at his calm voice, but answered softly. "Yes."  
  
"You're here to tell me that we shouldn't have done that."   
  
Her voice became even softer. "Yes."  
  
"You're here to tell me that we can't ever do that again." His voice became softer, to match hers. He forced her eyes to meet his.  
  
She was startled at the deep blue of his eyes, at the hidden emotions that seemed to lurk beneath the surface. She didn't want to say it, but fought against every fiber of her being and answered, almost in a whisper. "Yes."  
  
He found that he was leaning towards her. He didn't want to do it--didn't want to subject himself to another opportunity for her to reject him--but she didn't move back and he didn't stop. His voice became even quieter. "You're here to tell me that if I ever try, you won't let me."  
  
Her voice was almost inaudible this time as she answered while leaning towards him. It was almost an unconscious move on her part, but at the same time she was acutely aware of their movements. "Yes," she answered him, knowing that they were simply delaying the inevitable. She didn't bother to tell herself to move away. The butterflies in her stomach had awakened again, and they seemed to be making their way through the rest of her body. She knew she wouldn't be able to move if she tried.   
  
His lips were an inch away from hers. He knew now that she wouldn't move away from him. There had been plenty of time for her to do so, and she'd remained there, waiting. "You're here…" he moved even closer to her, his lips hovering above hers. "to tell me that if I kiss you now, you'll push me away."  
  
"Yes," she whispered, knowing that it wasn't true--knowing that he knew it wasn't true. He closed the remaining distance between them, and she closed her eyes as she felt his lips on hers. She remembered their last kiss suddenly, and knew that this one was different. It was as soft, as gentle, as the last one, but they were both fully aware of what they were doing. She knew she would regret it later, but for now all she could do was hold on to him as she felt the sensations of his lips on hers. He moved to stand on her knees, mimicking her position, and his arms came around her waist, his fingers touching the bottom of her shirt. She lifted her arms to the nape of his neck, toying with his hair, focusing on the feeling of his hair under her fingers and the sensation of his lips touching hers. He ended the kiss, then kissed her again, several times, lightly. He rested his forehead against hers as they both drew in deep breaths. They opened their eyes at the same time, blue boring into blue. He grinned at her slightly, and she just looked at him.   
  
"I want you to promise me," he looked at her again and grabbed the hand that she had let hang loose at her side. "that you won't run away this time." His voice was hoarse, almost pleading.   
  
She looked back at him, unflinching. She would regret this later, she knew. But it was now, and she was living for the moment. "I promise."  
  
He smiled at her then, almost tenderly, and kissed her again, lightly, then moved away. "The period's almost over. We should go."  
  
"We should," she answered. And then reality set in. "Oh, god. We can't go out together."  
  
He looked at her and sighed. This was when she would start thinking. "Sure we can. There's no one in the hall."   
  
"You can't--" she looked at him suddenly, panicked. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"  
  
"Of course not." He smiled at her, but it was a forced smile. "I have a girlfriend."   
  
He was dating another girl now, a pretty redhead named Jamie. She was nice and bubbly and a lot like all the other girls he'd dated.   
  
"And I have a boyfriend." Rory looked down at her hands and sat down as she realized what, exactly, she had just done. "Oh, god. What did we just do?"  
  
"Rory," he walked back to her quickly and took her hand. "It's okay."  
  
"No," she glanced at him, and he could see the beginnings of regret settling in her eyes. "It's not okay! Just because you think it's okay to cheat on your girlfriend doesn't mean I think it's okay to cheat on Dean. We have a nice thing going--not that I would expect you to understand that."  
  
"Don't you do that," he glared at her suddenly.   
  
"Do what?" she asked him, caught off guard by his sudden anger.   
  
"Don't you start insulting me just because you don't know what to do about what just happened. I don't deserve that and you know it. You were here, too." He was suddenly and inexplicably angry at her. He wondered why--he'd expected this reaction, after all, had known that this would happen after reality had set in and Rory had realized what they'd done. But he'd gone ahead with it anyway.   
  
She looked down at their hands, her small ones captured in his larger ones. "I know. I'm sorry."  
  
He didn't let go. "You promised not to run away."  
  
"I know." She raised her chin and looked at him. "I'm still here."  
  
He was thanking whatever power had kept her there at that very moment. "Good. So I'm guessing you'll want to talk about this."  
  
She looked away from him for a minute, then turned back. "I think we have to."  
  
He looked at her, and came to a quick decision. "I want you to meet me in the courtyard today after school. And I want you to be there this time."  
  
"Okay," she said quietly. It wasn't enough for him. He released her hand and brought his finger up to her chin, tipping it up and forcing her to look at him. "Okay?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," she answered him, her voice quiet but steady. "Okay."  
  
"Good," he grinned in relief. He wasn't sure she'd be there, but suddenly wanted to trust her. He realized that she was waiting for him to say something--to do something--so he winked at her and got up. "I'll see you later."  
  
**********************************  
  
Author's note: At the risk of becoming annoying, I'd like to once again encourage you to review! Whatever your opinions are about this story, positive or negative, I want to know. Please? 


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Gilmore Girls. They belong to the WB and to the genius that is Amy Sherman-Palladino.  
  
Author's Note: Several reviewers stated that they were confused by the timeline of this story, so I feel that an explanation is in order. I am jumping around between the past and the present, and my chapters have been arranged in the following way: the first part (my Prologue) took place in the present, as Rory is looking in the mirror. The second part (Chapter 1) takes place in the past. The third part takes place in the present and the fourth is, again, in the past. Starting now, I think that the times will vary throughout the chapters, which sounds confusing, but I'm hoping that it will become slightly clearer that way. The chapter begins with the present and quickly makes its way back into the past.   
  
I also apologize for taking so long to update. I will try to make the next update a lot sooner. And now, without further ado, on with the story.   
  
Reflections: Chapter 4  
  
Rory looked intently at her reflection in the mirror. She remembered changing her mind a million times that day, and eventually deciding that she might as well do the inevitable. She left her last class quickly, and went to her locker to grab her books. When she went out to the courtyard, he was waiting for her. She didn't know how he had managed it-he had left class after her and she knew he'd gone to his locker because he had his jacket and was no longer holding his history book-but she didn't ask. She was unsure of what to say to him now, in broad daylight. She didn't know what she wanted to say, didn't know what she wanted to happen.   
  
He smiled at her, and she felt herself smiling back. "Let's go do something."  
  
She stared at him, thinking about it. She knew she shouldn't. She knew that she should end it right there, should tell him that she had a boyfriend, should say no and go home, to Stars Hollow. But logic didn't help.   
  
"Okay," she answered.   
  
He grinned at her, and turned towards his car. "Let's go."  
  
_  
  
They'd driven around for a while, then stopped at a small coffee house. They didn't talk about Dean-didn't talk about Jamie-but made small talk, and found that they had many things in common. He read a lot, she'd found out, and they had similar tastes in books. They argued about everything from books to music to TV shows to coffee flavors, and it wasn't until almost two hours later that Rory had looked at her watch and realized that her mom would be home soon. He'd offered to drive her, but she refused, knowing that the presence of his car in Stars Hollow would prompt many unnecessary questions. There was a bus stop nearby, she'd argued, and it was out of his way. He'd just nodded, understanding that she didn't want to be seen with him, but didn't argue, willing to be happy with just the time they'd spent together. She smiled at him happily as she told him she'd see him tomorrow, and he smiled back, a nice, genuine smile. He didn't try to kiss her as she turned around and just watched as she crossed the street and waved as she got on her bus, and she was glad, grateful for his understanding.   
  
***  
  
She remembered coming home and breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that the Jeep wasn't in the driveway. She remembered unlocking the door and turning on the lights, hurriedly opening her book bag and spreading her books on her desk, then taking off her jacket and going to the kitchen to make coffee. She remembered spreading out her papers to make it look as if she'd been home for a while, and then realizing suddenly that this was the first time she was getting ready to deliberately lie to her mother. She remembered her surprise at how easily these actions had come to her, how natural it had seemed for her to pretend that she had been home the whole afternoon. She remembered saying hi to Lorelai as she had entered, and then promptly going to her room after having given her a kiss, saying something about having a lot of homework.   
  
If Lorelai had noticed anything amiss, she didn't say anything. She'd simply yelled to her when it was time for dinner, and they'd eaten their delivered Chinese food without much conversation, as Rory had thought about her day and Lorelai had talked on the phone to Sookie, who had gotten into another kitchen accident and was hopping around on one foot, as it appeared from Lorelai's side of the conversation, looking for an ice pack and trying to turn over a chair. If it had been any other day, Rory would have been laughing along with the concerned but amused Lorelai, but she could barely focus on the one-sided conversation as she thought about Tristan and the time they had spent together. It felt surreal that Lorelai was acting as if nothing had happened when everything looked so different to Rory-she had done something so crazy, so completely out of character, that she almost expected everyone to see it the second they looked at her, and yet here she was, eating with Lorelai as she did on so many evenings, and everything was the same.   
  
She felt oddly betrayed, almost, as Lorelai hung up the phone and turned to her brightly, explaining that Sookie had been surprised when her cake had "slightly exploded" and that she had knocked over a chair and twisted her ankle in her rush to get to her fire extinguisher. She went on to reminisce about Sookie's previous accidents as Rory sat there and listened half-heartedly, feeling that her mother, of all people, should have known that something was wrong, and yet afraid to tell her on her own.   
  
-  
  
And that was the way things went from then on, Rory mused. She learned, over time, to shield the blue eyes that were currently staring back at her in the mirror, to cover up the truth behind a veil of mischief and amusement that she and Lorelai shared, wanting all the time to tell Lorelai and yet being afraid of what reaction the truth would bring.   
  
She would walk through Stars Hollow sometimes, and she'd feel guilty when Miss Patty said hi to her with that piercing gaze that didn't really uncover anything but was designed to make you feel as if she knew all your secrets. She would feel naked sometimes when she stood at the doorway of Luke's diner, naked and dirty and a lie, because these people would look at her with their warm, loving eyes, and they'd be seeing someone that no longer existed.   
  
Sometimes, when talking to Lane, she caught a flicker in her gaze, a flicker of uncertainty and maybe of fear, and she knew it was because Lane caught that difference, caught the subtle changes that made Rory different. They didn't talk honestly anymore-Rory couldn't, not with this new secret, and Lane unconsciously reciprocated with an invisible barrier of her own.   
  
Lane didn't wait for her at the bus stop anymore.   
  
***************************************************  
  
Author's Note: Please let me know if the timeline is still confusing. It's something that I've been struggling with, but I hope I've successfully resolved the issue in this chapter. Thanks for reading. 


End file.
